


Memories

by KittyCatCaitlin



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Abused!Harry, Child Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Nice!Snape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-01-06 20:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12217908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyCatCaitlin/pseuds/KittyCatCaitlin
Summary: Harry's occlumency lessons had been going just fine, until he lets something slip that he shouldn't.Also on FanFiction.Net





	1. Chapter 1

Occlumency. Harry's least favourite time of the week. This is what he was thinking as he made his way down to the dungeons that evening. He had not been practising as Snape had asked him to, but had too many other things to worry about. Before he set foot in Snape's office that evening, he quickly adjusted his sleeve to hide the marks he had made just a few hours earlier. Opening the door, Snape stared at Harry until he made his way inside and took a seat. "Have you been practising?" Snape asked  
"Yes, sir." Harry lied  
"Well, I shall know in just a moment. Legillimens!" The familiar feeling of having his mind read overtook Harry as he squirmed. At first there were just a few loosely guarded memories, when he met Ron and Hermione, getting his Hogwarts letter, his first quidditch game. As the spell grew stronger it started to unlock other memories, his first kiss with Cho, Dumbledore's Army, his promise of a home with Sirius. These were all memories Snape had seen before, first, ones that Harry threw in his way to stop him reaching others, then those that unlocked when Harry had been struggling for a moment, but that evening, when Harry weakened for just a second, Snape unlocked memories that he had never seen before. Harry sat alone in the dormitory holding his potions knife to his wrist, already covered in blood, the time a dog had chased him up a tree and kept him there until beyond midnight, the Dursley's laughing as he climbed the tree, but then came memories Snape wished he had never seen, Vernon Dursley holding Harry by the throat against a wall, and before dropping him when he could not longer be bothered questioning the boy. Petunia Dursley holding Harry's hand over the hob, burning him as he had burnt the bacon, Dudley Dursley kicking Harry in the ribs until he had curled into himself, with Dudley laughing at his pain. The worst memory he found, that he did not mean to find, Vernon Dursley throwing Harry into his bedroom, if it could even be called that, removing his belt and raising it above his head.   
"Stop!" Harry shouted, bringing Snape out of the spell. "Just stop." This came out as more of a whimper than anything else. He stood up to collect his invisibility cloak and leave.   
"Potter." Snape murmured "Sit down."  
"I'm not going to talk to you about what you just saw if that's what you want." Harry said thickly  
"I didn't say that, I told you to sit down." Snape was slightly more forceful with his words, but did not have the loathing tone that he usually had in the classroom. After a moment, Harry obeyed.   
"Lift up your sleeve." Snape commanded, watching as Harry went to lift his right sleeve. "The other one." He said simply. With reluctance, Harry lifted his left sleeve, revealing scars and cuts, both old and new. Snape took Harry's arm, running his hand over the damage, trying to get a feel for how bad it was. "Who's was the dog?" Snape asked, trying to distract the boy.  
"It belonged to my Aunt Marge." He said "I stepped on it's paw so it chased me up the tree." Snape nodded as he vaguely listened, still assessing the damage of Harry's forearm.   
"Potter, I'm going to have to take you to the hospital wing..." He said absentmindedly   
"No, absolutely not." Harry insisted firmly, pulling his arm away from the potions master's grip.  
"Harry, I cannot tell what kind of damage you've done here and as somebody who assesses damage as part of his job that's pretty damn impressive!" Snape's voice rang through the room, bouncing off the stone walls and ceiling. Harry was silent, he had never heard Snape call him by his first name before. "But Sir, Madam Pomfrey will tell Professor Dumbledore, and Dumbledore-"  
"Should know what's happening right under his nose." Snape finished. "And before you say a word about Professor McGonagall, she should too."  
"But Sir-" Harry tried to protest  
"No buts, Potter. You're coming with me to the hospital wing. Wear that damn invisibility cloak if you do not wish to be seen with me." Harry simply draped the cloak over his head and followed Snape out of the dungeons.

In their passage to the hospital wing, the pair had to go through the transfiguration corridor, but Harry was surprised when Snape stopped outside a door and knocked. He was even more surprised when Professor McGonagall appeared, her grey hair falling in soft curls over her shoulders, rather than the usual severe updo. "Severus, what a surprise." She greeted "Is this important, I'm grading NEWT papers."  
"Minerva, please come with me."  
"And where would we be going, Severus?" She asked   
"Somewhere that concerns one of your Gryffindors." He said simply. Professor McGonagall joined Harry and Snape on their way up to the hospital wing. When they arrived outside the door, Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak. "Potter!" Professor McGonagall gasped "Have you been following Professor Snape and I?"   
"Well... uh.... technically yes but-" Harry's nervous stammer was cut off.  
"It was under my orders, Minerva. I asked Potter to follow us under his invisibility cloak." Professor McGonagall gave a tight-lipped nod of acknowledgement. The three entered the hospital wing, just as Madam Pomfrey was finishing putting those staying to bed. "Severus, Minerva! What brings you here?" Madam Pomfrey asked.  
"Mr Potter here is what brings us to you, Poppy. I need to you examine him." Snape said cooly. Madam Pomfrey merely nodded and led Harry over to an empty bed, pulling screens around to shield him from the other patients, so Professors Snape and McGonagall could look on at the young student.   
"Mr Potter, could you please remove your shirt?" Madam Pomfrey asked. With much reluctance at stripping in front of three adults, Harry pulled his shirt over his head. There was a collective gasp from the two women at the state of Harry's skin. The buckle-shaped welts in his back were still bruised, four months after leaving Privet Drive, and the cuts on his arm were clearly not the only marks of self-mutilation on Harry's body. "Potter, what happened?" McGonagall asked   
"It's nothing." Harry insisted  
"It's not nothing, Potter, its abuse." Snape interjected  
"Abuse, Severus?" Professor McGonagall looked faint  
"Yes Minerva. Harry's relatives have been abusing him since he was at least seven year old, if not younger." Snape explained "It was revealed to me whilst helping Harry practise occlumency. I used the legillimens charm and the memories were shown to me."  
"This arm has been broken at some point. Potter, it's going to be better in the long run if I vanish this bone and you regrow it. You've regrown bones before, you know what you're in for." Madam Pomfrey muttered   
"Is he going to be ok, Poppy?" Professor McGonagall asked  
"Physically I can heal him until there are barely scars. Mentally it's going to take a while. I can keep him here tonight and heal him up, give him a sleeping draught so he can't feel a thing. As for his mental issues, I think it best we leave the muggles to handle that. I can find him a muggle with magical relatives, so he doesn't have to hide anything."   
"Thank you, Poppy." McGonagall said gratefully "Harry," Harry hadn't been listening up to this point. He was too exhausted to care. "Harry, you're going to stay here tonight. Madam Pomfrey is going to heal your wounds, and Professor Snape and I will be back tomorrow." Harry just nodded wearily, eager to get some sleep after the nights events. Professor McGonagall left, just as Snape crouched next to Harry. "You'll be ok, Potter. We'll make sure that oaf can't touch you anymore." Harry nodded again, slowly drinking the sleeping draught he had been given. He yawned and stretched out onto the bed he was sitting on, falling asleep almost instantly. Snape stayed for a few minutes to help Madam Pomfrey swap his jeans for pyjamas, revealing yet more wounds on his legs, and sighed. Severus Snape stood overlooking the boy, and for once did not see Harry Potter, son of James Potter, an arrogant, spoiled little boy who relied on his fame for everything. Instead he saw Harry Potter, son of Lily Evans, his Lily, a lonely, abused, scared young man, who held far more secrets than he should, and for a moment, just one moment, Severus Snape saw that he and Harry Potter had far more in common than he first thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry woke up late the next morning, the aftertaste of the sleeping draught bringing the previous night's events back to him. He groaned and rolled over, just as Madam Pomfrey came bustling through. "Ah, Mr Potter, you're awake. Professor McGonagall has been waiting to see you, would you mind?" Harry just shook his head, fumbling on the nightstand for his glasses. When he felt the smooth metal he quickly shoved them onto his face. The first thing Harry noticed was all the bandages, on his forearm, across his torso. He didn't have much time to dwell on this when Professor McGonagall came through. "Oh, Harry. You have no idea how much I've been worrying about you all night."  
"I'm fine, Professor." Harry brushed off  
"Harry Potter, you are not fine. You have been betrayed by the people we entrusted you with. Now, I realise that it may be uncomfortable, but I'm going to need to talk to you about your life with the Dursleys. I'll have to take it to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. What they have done to you is illegal, Harry, and we can help you make sure they get what they deserve." It took more than two hours for Harry to recount the horrors of his childhood, with Professor McGonagall's DictaQuill scribbling frantically the entire time. After Harry had finished Professor McGonagall lowered the quill. "Now, Harry, from here this is all off record, so everything said now is between you and I, and nobody else." She took a deep breath "Harry, would I be right in saying that the marks on your left forearm were, in fact, made by yourself?"  
"Yes Professor." He replied quietly  
"How long have you been self-harming, Harry?" McGonagall was trying to be as gentle as possible with the boy, but some things were just difficult to talk about  
"I'm not self-harming." He lied  
"Yes you are. That's what we have to call it when you are hurting yourself, Harry. Now, how long have you been hurting yourself?"  
"About six years, Professor."  
"Why didn't you tell someone, Harry? You know I would have been perfectly happy to listen to you, Dumbledore too. Or if not one of us, Molly or Arthur Weasley, Remus, Sirius, anybody would have listened."  
"I didn't think anybody would care." Harry muttered, barely audible.  
"Harry, you're going to have to speak up."  
"I didn't think anybody would care!" He exploded "You all care about me defeating Voldemort and saving the world but nobody actually cares about me! I had to go back to the Dursley's because that's the only way I'm protected! I've practically begged Dumbledore to let me stay here for the summer but he says I have to go back! There's no point complaining when I can't change anything." Professor McGonagall had never seen the boy look so broken, a sudden reminder that he was in fact just a boy. She put her arm around him "Oh, Harry. You have no idea how much we care about you."

A week after being released from the hospital wing Harry, still bandaged under his school uniform, was just finishing his strengthening solution and packing up his ingredients when Professor Snape spoke "When you have finished your strengthening solution, place a vial of it on my desk labelled with your name. Potter, stay behind." Harry waited for his potion to finish simmering, before transferring some into a vial and clearing out his cauldron. Ron and Hermione were lingering by the doorway, waiting for him. "Just go," he told the pair "I'll meet you back in the common room." Ron and Hermione nodded, then left. Harry picked up his vial of potion, and made his way to Professor Snape's desk. As he set it down, Snape's voice made him jump, almost knocking his potion to the floor "How are you?" Snape was asking.  
"I'm just great, Professor. Uncle Vernon is going before the Wizengamot tomorrow, and I have to testify, I can't lie on my back because Madam Pomfrey has told me not to, I haven't even been able to tell my two best friends why I'm going to the ministry tomorrow and I'm probably homeless. I couldn't be better."  
"There's no need for sarcasm, Mr Potter, I merely asked a question. And besides, Professor McGonagall and I will be the ones escorting you to the trial tomorrow. Believe it or not, I volunteered."  
"Oh. Well, thank you, sir."  
"Have you stopped?" Professor Snape asked suddenly  
"Stopped what, sir?"  
"Don't play dumb with me, Potter, we both know you made the cuts on your wrist, and yes I saw the ones on your thighs too."  
"But... how-"  
"Madam Pomfrey required my assistance in dressing you the night you were in the hospital wing. So tell me, have you stopped." Harry hung his head in shame. "I thought as much. Just, keep them healthy, Potter. I'm not encouraging it, but keep it safe. Don't use the same knife you were using to cut bluebottle wings, you'll get an infection and then you'll be in trouble."  
"Yes Sir." Harry said quietly.  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Harry woke up early, worrying about the day that lay ahead. He sat up in bed, knees clasped to his chest, as his thought about his testimony again and again. When he couldn't handle the thoughts attacking his brain any longer, he silently made his was over to his school bag and pulled out his potions knife, before he remembered Snape's warning. "Keep them healthy... keep it safe" The words echoed in his brain, and before Harry knew what he was doing, he had summoned the bottle of rubbing alcohol he knew Neville kept under his bed. He found a clean cloth to apply the alcohol to, and began working on the blade. Harry found it to be immensely satisfying to clean the blade manually, without magic, as he worked to remove old blood stains and potions ingredients. This took around fifteen minutes, and once Harry was satisfied with his work, he began carving the word "freak" into his thigh. This was his reminder of what he really was, not matter what anybody else said, there was one thing the Dursley's were right about. He was and always would be a freak.

Just as Harry finished cleaning his knife again and was admiring his handiwork, he heard a voice from the next bed along "Mate, what the fuck...?" Ron had woken up, and all too late, Harry had realised his curtains were wide open.

"R-Ron," he stammered "It's nothing."

"Harry, that's not nothing. You're self harming, there's got to be a reason?"

"It's... complicated." Harry tried to say in lieu of an actual explanation

"Like most of your life, mate. Try me." Ron challenged

"The Dursley's have been abusing me for as long as I can remember, but I didn't know it was abuse until I met your family, I just thought that's what families were like. They would beat and starve me, trying to stamp the magic out of me, probably. I would be punished for accidental magic, punished for just about anything really. Sometime Uncle Vernon would lock me in my cupboard for weeks without food-"

"Your cupboard?" Ron interjected

"Yeah, I lived in the cupboard under the stairs until my Hogwarts letter came, and then they gave me Dudley's second bedroom because they were scared people were watching the house. They basically treated me like a house elf, still do when I go there. I'm not allowed any of my Hogwarts stuff, I have to do my homework at night, I have to do all the chores, including cooking, cleaning and gardening. I'm going to the ministry today because Uncle Vernon is going in front of the Wizengamot. Apparently it's illegal to harm a magical child in your care, so he's being tried for it. I cut myself because I can control my own pain, and it hurts way less than what's going on inside my head." Ron stared at Harry for a moment

"Shit, mate... I take it McGonagall knows?" Harry nodded

"Snape told her after he found out."

"Snape knows?! How did he find out?"

"One of our occlumency lessons. I let my guard down, only for a second, but he got through and saw."

"So that night you were in the hospital wing..." Harry just nodded. He quickly cleaned up his legs and got dressed, ignoring Ron's stares, so he could go to breakfast as early as possible.

Harry sat alone in the Great Hall, spooning cereal into his mouth absentmindedly. His mind was on the trial later in the day. He was so lost in his thought that he only realised he had finished his cereal when he brought a spoonful of milk to his mouth and chewed on nothing. At that point he stood up and made his way to Professor McGonagall's office, where he and Professors Snape and McGonagall had agreed to meet in order to floo to the Ministry of Magic.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry was shaking violently when the trio stepped out into the atrium of the Ministry, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched automatically "Calm yourself, Potter." He heard his potions professor tell him "I am not going to hurt you. Now, this isn't going to be easy, but it will be much harder if you're panicking." Harry nodded slowly, playing with the sleeve of his robe. As Snape removed his hand from Harry he inwardly shuddered at the feeling of his bone, only protected by a thin layer of skin. It was a sickly reminder of the night everything fell into place for Severus Snape, when he realised why the boy never rolled his sleeves, even when the dungeon was filled with the hot fumes of brewing potions, when he realised that in the few occasions he ate in the Great Hall, he had observed the boy either eat like he was starved or nothing at all, aside from the little food Miss Granger bullied into him, when he realised that his robes were showing signs of age, because the little amount he grew had yet to warrant new robes. The night he realised that Harry Potter, whilst almost identical to his father, was far more like his mother than Snape had anticipated.

By the time Harry, Minerva and Severus were sat in the courtroom, Harry was sat stock still, with even the slightest movement from either professor making him flinch. Snape dared not touch him, for fear of frightening the boy beyond that he already was. He could feel the anxiety radiating off the boy when Vernon Dursley was brought into the room, spluttering his complaints at being manhandled by the aurors, before being unceremoniously dumped into a chair, and magically bound. Petunia and Dudley timidly sat in their seats, unbound, staring at Vernon. Once everybody was seated, the minister cleared his throat. "Twenty-Seventh of January 1996, The Dursley Family of number four Privet Drive, muggles, versus Mr. Harry James Potter, presided by Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic, and scribed by Percy Ignatius Weasley. Mr. Vernon Patrick Dursley and Mrs. Petunia Charlotte Dursley, you have been charged with abuse and neglect of a magical child placed in your care. Mr. Dudley Vernon Dursley, you have been charged with accessory to abuse of a magical child. Witnesses for the Prosecution are Professors Severus Tobias Snape and Minerva Isobel McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." The trial proceeded in a similarly formal fashion, evidence in the form of memories using a projecting penseive was provided by Professor Snape, memories of the Occlumency lesson in which the abuse was discovered, as well as the state of Harry's skin in the hospital wing afterwards. The memories had been carefully edited by Snape himself in order to not reveal Harry's own self-destructive behaviours. No matter how powerful it may have been as evidence, Severus could not bring himself to betray Harry like that. Harry himself spent the majority of the trial staring into space, entirely checked out of reality. This was understandable, given the nature of the proceedings, but still unnerving as he didn't say a word that was not the testimony he prepared throughout the several hours they sat in the room. Finally, a judgment was passed. "Mr. Vernon Dursley, you have been found guilty of neglect and abuse of a magical child in your care, and you will henceforth be sentenced to a life in Azkaban. Mrs. Dursley, you have been found guilty of neglect and accessory to abuse of a magical child in your care, and as such you will sentenced 10 years in Azkaban. Mr. Dudley Dursley, you have been found guilty of abuse and accessory to neglect of a magical child. You will be sentenced to eighteen months in Azkaban. Harry James Potter will be placed in the temporary guardianship of Minerva Isobel McGonagall until a suitable permanent guardian can be found." Harry didn't respond to the verdict, still sat stiffly in his seat. McGonagall decided it was appropriate to try and bring some life back to the boy. "Harry, Harry it's over. We can go back to Hogwarts." Harry just nodded, before standing to leave the room. The two professors exchanged glances as the three made their way to the atrium, disturbed by the lack of emotion displayed by their young charge as they stepped into a fireplace and travelled back to Minerva's office. Harry fell out of the fireplace into his new guardian's office, collapsed on the floor and wept. Professor McGonagall immediately started to comfort the boy, with Professor Snape unsure of what to do. He was plenty used to broken children, he was the head of Slytherin, where most of the children were pureblooded. Their parents certainly had unorthodox methods of ensuring their offspring complied with their views, but it was both their pureblood upbringing and Slytherin pride that taught those students not to cry. Yet here was a child with almost identical experience and pride for his house, but this child was crying. No amount of experience could help Severus deal with the fact the broken, crying boy in front of him belonged to his best friend and his worst enemy.


	5. Chapter 5

Snape glanced tiredly over his fifth year class, dismissing Harry as his eyes roamed over the pupils. He had barely spared a thought for the boy since the Dursley's trial, and was certainly not going to make a habit of it now. He was trying his hardest not to start caring about him. After the class had finished their potions and been dismissed, Harry seemed to be lagging behind his class. "Mr Potter, do you not have a lesson to be attending?" Snape asked

"Yes, I'm on my way." Harry replied. He stood up, clutching the chair to steady himself. It was then Snape noticed Harry's face. He was as pale as the castle ghosts, possibly paler, his emerald green eyes bloodshot, sweat dripping from his forehead, despite his shivering and the cool air on the dungeons. He looked like he was going to drop at any moment. "Potter, sit back down, you're not well. I'll call down Madam Pomfrey and she can take you to the hospital wing."

"I'm fine thank you, sir. I'll be going to my lesson now." Harry had a grey tinge to his skin, Snape noticed as he put a large hand on his still too skinny shoulder.

"Potter, you won't even make it to the door, never mind your next lesson. It's charms, isn't it?" Harry nodded "I'll send a message through to Professor Flitwick." Harry just nodded again, staring at the desk in front of him. Everything was swimming in front of his eyes, but he wasn't ill. He wasn't allowed to be ill. Suddenly the room started spinning. Snape watched the boy, until he started falling, at which point he darted forward to stop him hitting his head on the stone floor.

Having laid him on the sofa in his quarters, Snape watched Harry for merlin knew how long, a temperature check showing that he was running at 42.3C, a dangerously high temperature for an adult to be running at, let alone an overly skinny 15 year old. He instantly summoned Madam Pomfrey upon discovering this. "Poppy," he called through the fireplace "I have Mr. Potter here. He's running a fever at 42.3, I can't move him, not like this." Poppy Pomfrey stepped through the fireplace as soon as Snape had removed himself

"Severus, why didn't you send for me before it got this bad?" She scolded

"I didn't know, Poppy. We are all aware of how good Mr Potter is at hiding the things he does not wish for us to know, he's had plenty of practice." Snape replied coldly, before softening considerably "Is he going to be ok?" There was almost a hint of worry in his voice

"It's Black Cat Flu, so we'll have to see. There's been a lot of it about, and some of it has turned quite nasty, as you can see. The Prophet is calling it an epidemic." Madam Pomfrey sniffed irritably at the suggestion. "You're right, though. He can't be moved, so you'll have to keep him here until he can come up to the hospital wing."

"You mean-"

"Yes Severus. You're going to have to take care of the boy yourself. I will of course help, but there's enough Black Cat Flu in my infirmary as it is. You are a trained mediwizard, are you not?"

"I am." Snape said through gritted teeth

"Then the boy will be in capable hands, I'm sure!"

"Poppy, I am a busy man. I do not have time to be playing babysitter."

"Then you should have noticed and sent him to me earlier." Madam Pomfrey uttered simply

"Poppy, how was I to-"

"By noticing, Severus!" The healer shouted "You said yourself, we all know how good Mr. Potter is at hiding things he doesn't want us to know. Perhaps if you had kept that in mind, rather than thinking he is James and sulking over the fact he reminds you of your own childhood, and yes you are sulking don't you dare argue with me Severus Snape, we wouldn't be in this situation!" Snape's mouth, open and ready to argue, closed at that statement. He realised that the healer was right. Harry reminded him so much of James that he couldn't think of him as Harry.

Harry opened his eyes, unable to see properly without his glasses, confused at where he was. It was dark and damp, not a bed, so not his dorm, nor the hospital wing. He realised that wherever he was, he couldn't be. He wasn't allowed to be ill, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wouldn't allow it. He had to be well so he could do his chores, so he could cook and clean and weed. Suddenly panicked, Harry tried to push himself up to leave, scrabbling around for his glasses. "Mr. Potter, I would suggest you lie back down. You have been unconscious for three days with Black Cat Flu, you have a temperature of more than 43, it's a miracle you were still alive in my classroom, let alone conscious and considering going to your next lesson." Everything suddenly came back to Harry. Potions, Snape, he must have been in Snape's living quarters.

"No no no." Harry muttered "I'm fine. I promise I'm fine. I can't be ill, I'm not allowed to be ill."

"Potter, the fever is confusing you. Lie back down now and stop fretting." The potions master insisted

"No, I have- I have to go!" Harry argued "I have work to do, I have quidditch practice! Angelina will kill me if I miss another practice!"

"Then Miss Johnson will be answering to myself and Madam Pomfrey." Snape countered "Schoolwork can wait. Lord knows it has in the past."

"But Sir, I absolutely can't be ill!"

"Harry James Potter, open up your ears and listen!" Snape thundered, spitting out Harry's full name "It's a damn miracle that you haven't died in the past three days! Calm down or I will be forced to have you drink a calming draught with or without your cooperation, do not test me on this!" Harry slowly lowered himself back into a horizontal position on the sofa, keeping a wary eye on his professor in case he decided to do something to punish him.

"Please Sir." Harry whimpered "I'm not ill, let me get out of your way." Snape sighed heavily

"Harry, why didn't you go to Madam Pomfrey earlier? Black Cat Flu is similar to the muggle influenza. If you had gone to Madam Pomfrey immediately she could have given you a pain reliever and fever reducer and you would have been better in a few days."

"I'm not allowed medicine when I'm ill." Harry said bluntly. Snape was confused

"Excuse me?"

"I said," Harry repeated "I'm not allowed medicine when I'm ill. No doctors, no hospitals, no medicine." Snape took a seat nearby, leaning his elbows on his knees and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Potter, how long have you been at this school?"

"Uh... five years, Sir."

"And how many times has Madam Pomfrey treated your illnesses?"

"Never, Sir." Snape suddenly looked up

"What did you say?"

"Madam Pomfrey has never treated my illnesses, Sir. Only my injuries, usually from quidditch. I've never been to the hospital wing because I was ill, Sir." Harry looked at his fiddling hands as he explained, avoiding eye contact with Professor Snape. The young educator sighed and leant back in his chair.

"Potter, are you telling me that you've never seen a healer that wasn't Madam Pomfrey?" Harry nodded "And you've never seen a muggle doctor?"

"No Sir. Freaks don't deserve doctors or medicine. Freaks don't deserve their help." Snape rubbed his face with his hands. He should have known the Dursley's had something to do with this.

"Harry, you're safe now. You're not a freak, and you deserve the help of a doctor, as much as I am loathed to say it, you do deserve medicine, and I wouldn't have been attempting to keep you alive these past few days if you didn't."

"Y-You've been keeping me alive? But Sir, you hate me!" Harry was confused at this revelation

"Potter- Harry. I do not hate you. Are you a complete dunderhead when it comes to even the most basic potions? Yes. Are you a spitting image and therefore remind me of your idiot of a father every time I see you? Yes. Does that make me hate you? No. I admit I have shown some unfair contempt towards you, but that will not continue. You are so like your mother it's unbelievable."

"You- You knew my mother?" Harry was suddenly curious "Could you tell me about her?"

"You're pushing your luck, Potter." Snape said sharply, before considering what he'd just said. "Perhaps another time. For now, you need to sleep. Take this," He handed Harry a vial of purple potion

"Dreamless sleep." Harry mumbled "Madam Pomfrey gave it to me after the triwizard tournament last year."

"Maybe you're not as much as a dunderhead as I thought..." Snape mused. "Yes it is a dreamless sleep. Drink. It will help with the nightmares."

"N-Nightmares, Sir?" Harry was suddenly nervous again

"Yes, nightmares. You've been thrashing about in your sleep. The first time I thought you were having a fit, then I realised. Your fever will only make them worse, so I suggest you drink the potion." Harry took another wary look at the vial, before tipping the whole thing into his mouth. He swore he could taste the slightest hint of strawberry as he dropped off to sleep. Maybe Snape was being nice to him after all? Or maybe all this was just a dream. The latter seemed the more likely option.


	6. Chapter 6

When Harry next awoke he was wasn't sure what he was to be more confused about, the fact he had Snape sitting next to him, or that Snape was reading the bible. "Wizard Christians?" Was the first thing Harry managed to say. Snape closed the book and looked at him.

"Mr. Potter, you're awake."

"You're a Christian?" Harry asked

"Well observed, Mr. Potter. I'm not reading this bible for any sort of academic purpose, I am in fact a Christian. But I do not know why my faith is any of your business."

"I just- I didn't think you could be a wizard and a Christian. The bible says witchcraft is a sin. It's something I've been struggling with for a while."

"Faith can be a wonderful thing, Harry, I wouldn't turn away from it quite so easily. Why did you become a Christian? What led you to God?" Snape asked, genuinely curious

"With the Dursley's... yeah... I thought I was being punished. I thought that if I became a good Christian, maybe I would stop being punished. Then I realised that I wasn't being punished by God, so He became my only friend, the one person I could tell anything and He would listen to me. I felt like He cared, even when nobody else did."

"Why Christianity though? Could solace not be as founded in Judaism? Or perhaps Buddhism?"

"I live in Surrey, Sir. There aren't many religious buildings that aren't churches near Little Whinging. Also... Aunt Petunia has a book on the shelf, a bible. She and Uncle Vernon think religion is proper so they pretend to be Christian, but in the front cover, this bible has 'Property of Lily Evans' written. I think that's my mum." Snape looked down at the leather bound book in his hand

"Evans was your mother's maiden name, yes, and she was a Christian. We went to the same church as children. She made sure you were baptised as a baby, so that God would always welcome you to his kingdom." Snape's voice was soft and quiet as he spoke about Lily, remembering their Sundays together. How they would go to church and sit together in the pews, then when the adults were drinking tea after the service, they would go outside and play on the lawn at the back of the church.

"Sir... how do you know this?" Harry asked tentatively

"Because I was at your baptism, Harry. As disappointed as I was that it would be Black supposed to show you the way to the Lord, I thought I could at least help you find something in life." Snape checked the time on his wristwatch. "Come on, Potter. Time for another potion."

"What's this one?" Harry asked

"Fever reducer and pain reliever."

"I'm not in pain." Harry said immediately. Snape sighed.

"Potter, we both know you're lying, so just take the potion and be done with it."

"How do I know this is really a pain reliever? How do I know it's not some illegal torture potion?" Snape was getting ready to give up

"It's Friday. How long have you been here Potter?"

"Um, five days?"

"Do you really think that if I were trying to hurt or kill you, I wouldn't have done it already?"

"I guess..." Harry was still regarding the potion with caution

"Harry, I can assure you that is has not been tampered with. I made it myself this morning and it has not left these rooms."

"You made these?" He looked at the potions master quizzically

"I've made every potion I've given you, Potter. It's the only way I can insure they won't interfere with each other." Snape explained to avoid more questions

"Oh..." Harry's surprise was evident, before he muttered "I don't like strawberry."

"What was that?" Snape asked sharply

"I, um, I don't like strawberry, sir. Aunt Petunia would give me Dudley's leftover peanut butter and jam sandwiches to eat. The jam was always strawberry, and I'm allergic to peanuts, so I don't much like strawberry, sir." He explained sheepishly. The next dreamless sleep Harry was given was orange flavoured.

It was Saturday night, the second week of Harry's discovered illness. The boy was still coughing and spluttering, but his fever had lowered considerably and he was looking a remarkably better colour that he had been previously. "Tea, Harry?" Snape asked, realising he would quite like a cup for himself

"If-if it's not too much trouble, sir." He couldn't believe that after nearly two weeks the boy was still nervous of him.

"Don't be so silly, Boy." Harry flinched at being called Boy, a reminder of his uncle. Severus softened considerably "Milk and sugar?" He asked. Harry nodded, distracting himself with the hem of his pyjama shirt. After a few minutes, Snape set a mug of steaming tea down beside Harry, as well as his own of raspberry and blackcurrant, before pulling up a chair to face him. Snape sat down and picked up his tea, sipping at it, trying to figure out which words to use. "Harry, we need to talk." He decided to start with. Harry looked up at Snape, who decided to continue "You need to stop hurting yourself, and I don't just mean the cutting." He held up his hand as Harry tried to interrupt "I know what was your uncle and what was you. You have 'freak' scarred into your thigh. I know that was you, and it needs to stop. This needs to stop too. Not getting help when you're ill is a form of self harm, whether you meant it or not, and I know with your aunt and uncle they would not allow it, that much I have gathered, but allow us to help you when you're ill. I also want you to stop attacking yourself. I am aware of the psychological scars that abuse can leave, but they will never heal if you continue to blame yourself. You have an appointment with a muggle counsellor next week to help you with this process. Her husband and daughter are magical, so there is no need to hide anything from her. As for your forgiveness of yourself, it's Sunday tomorrow." Harry blinked at his professor

"Sir, what does that day of the week have to do with anything?" He asked

"If you'd let me finish, Harry? Tomorrow is Sunday, and there is a small church in a village just outside Hogsmeade. You mentioned that you are Christian? I've spoken to Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, they both agree that you need a change of environment. I will wake you at nine sharp. I will expect you to be ready to leave for mass at quarter to ten." Harry gaped at Snape. "Close your mouth, Harry, before you swallow a fly."

"But- but _sir_ , you're taking me to _church_?!" He was astounded

"Indeed I am, Potter. I am taking you to the church I attend on a weekly basis, so please bear that in mind and be on your best behaviour. It's also a muggle church, so dress appropriately."

"Um, sir?" Harry asked uncertainly

"Yes, Potter?"

"None of my muggle clothes fit me." Severus wished he could be surprised by this, but unfortunately was not.

"We'll sort that in the morning, Harry. For now, just drink your tea." He had slipped a few drops of an especially potent calming draught into Harry's cup, hoping it would help him sleep. He couldn't give him another dreamless sleep. Eventually a person builds up a tolerance and they no longer work.

"Sir?" Harry asked quietly. The calming draught had obviously worked

"Yes Harry?"

"Can you tell me about my mother?" Snape hesitated for a moment. This was not a boy who had known love or care. Likely the only information he had on the woman was that told to him by Petunia, unlikely to be particularly nice about her only sister. He took a breath.

"Your mother was a remarkable witch..." Severus spoke for a long time, with Harry nodding in parts, and when the young wizard fell asleep, Severus took it upon himself to pull the blankets up to his chin, running a hand through the boy's raven hair as he slept. The man cursed himself as he realised what he was doing, resigning himself to the fact he was beginning to care for the boy.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning Harry woke up to the sound of someone entering his room, which was actually the guest room of Snape's living quarters that Harry had been occupying since moving off the sofa, and immediately shielded himself, before remembering that he was at Hogwarts, the Dursley's were in jail, nobody was here to hurt him. It was the head of Slytherin himself that entered the room, carrying a tray laden with vials "Good Morning, Harry." He said as Harry sat himself up, with difficulty, put his glasses on and looked at the man who had just entered the room. This man could not be the most feared teacher in Hogwarts, he looked almost fatherly in his dark wash jeans, white button down and black suit jacket. His usual mop of hair was tied into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck, but a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, giving away his apparent happiness at /something/. "You need to drink these. They'll help you to get up and moving. It's a pain reliever, strengthening solution, nutrition potion and energy supplement. There's a cup of tea for you as I realise that most of those potions do not taste particularly nice, and porridge with golden syrup. I do not mind if you don't eat all the porridge today, but your food intake is going to have to dramatically increase, Mr. Potter. You're at least thirty pounds underweight and it's not helping you at all. The nutrition potions I'm starting you on will help, but solid food is going to be the best thing for you. When you have finished with your breakfast take a look in the wardrobe." When Snape left the room, Harry quickly drank all four potions and set about tackling the small bowl of porridge. He could only stomach about half before pushing it aside and easing himself off the bed without help for the first time in weeks. As per Snape's instructions, Harry looked in the wardrobe on the other side of the room. He was surprised to discover a stack of muggle clothes on the shelf, as well as a black felt coat. Not a cloak, a coat. Whether he was more surprised about Professor Snape owning these things or allowing him to use them, he was unsure, but grateful to the man for doing so. Dressed in a white button down and black trousers, similar enough to his school uniform that he didn't feel uncomfortable, he ventured into the kitchen, where Snape was drinking his morning coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. The view of domestic bliss was so different from the usual view of the potions master, Harry was almost finding it funny, until he saw the picture of himself on a page flipping over the side and groaned. "There's no need for faces, Harry, it's more blatant lies."

"What are they saying, sir?" He asked, wanting to know what the rest of the school were believing

"As nobody has heard anything about you since the trial, rumour has it you've gone mad and are currently in St Mungo's." Harry snorted, and Snape finally looked up from the paper.

"I hope you don't plan on making that sort of noise again today." He looked Harry up and down "Coat." He said simply

"Sir?" Harry questioned

"I left a coat for you, go and put it on. It's February and you have been really quite ill. There is snow on the ground, so please go and put your coat on." Harry went and got his coat, finding that it fit perfectly. He wondered how Snape had managed to get hold of clothes his size, or even knew his size. It felt nice to have clothes that fitted, that weren't his school uniform. He was back in the kitchen within a minute, where Snape insisted on wrapping a scarf around his neck and ensuring his coat was buttoned properly. "We will be flooing to the Three Broomsticks, and from there we will apparate to the outskirts of the village. We will then walk to the church." Snape explained, taking a handful of floo powder from an ornate box on the mantle, then motioning for Harry to do the same.

The Three Broomsticks was empty, as could be expected at quarter to ten on a , with the only occupant being Madam Rosmerta wiping down tables. "Morning Severus." She called as the two left the building. Snape acknowledged her greeting with a small smile and nod, burying his hands deep in the pockets of his own coat. "There is a pair of gloves in your pocket, Harry. Put them on before we go outside." He instructed. Harry obeyed this instruction, still in awe as to how the blue gloves, along with everything else, were a perfect fit. "Now take hold of my arm."

"Professor...?" Harry was still not accustomed to Professor Snape being nice to him, let alone asking for physical contact.

"Just do it, Potter." Snape sighed. The young boy tentatively held his arm, before the pair apparated to the edge of the village of Glenlivet.

Before coming into contact with anybody else, Snape pulled Harry into a nearby line of trees. "Before we go anywhere you're going to have to go by a different name. I think all the other churchgoers are muggles, but we can't be too careful. I'm also going to change your appearance slightly." He waved his wand over Harry, who felt a warm tingling sensation. His hair took on a slightly reddish hue, becoming more auburn than black, and his sharp Potter features softened out. Freckles appeared across his nose and cheeks, the lightning scar slowly disappeared. "Temporary glamour charm." Snape explained, but Harry wasn't listening

"Jem. Jem Evans." He said suddenly

"What was that?" Snape asked

"My name. Jem Evans, if anybody asks. James is my middle name, but I know you don't like it, so shorten to Jem, and Evans was mum's name. Jem Evans." Snape smiled

"Ok then, Jem. Shall we start walking?" Harry nodded enthusiastically.

The church was small and modern, but had a wonderful atmosphere to it. "Severus!" A woman greeted "How are you?"

"Hello Judith," Snape smiled, something Harry had never seen before "I'm very well thank you. How did the bake sale go on Thursday?"

"It was a huge success! We raised over 300!" Judith said gleefully

"I'm glad to hear that, Judith. Sorry I couldn't be there, I was-"

"At work, I know. They keep you so busy at that school! Couldn't you get some time off?" Judith suddenly noticed Harry, who was lost in thought. Could this be Professor Snape, his terrifying potions master, asking a woman well into her 50's about a /bake sale/? Judith's question brought Harry out of his reverie "And who might this be?"

"Judith, this is Jem, my..." Snape started

"Nephew." Harry lied quickly "Mum and Dad are away so I'm staying with Uncle Sev." He knew he would pay dearly for 'Uncle Sev' later, but for now they needed a cover story.

"Hello Jem, I'm Judith. I'm in charge the fundraising here at the church. Your uncle is very generous, as much as he may pretend he's not. He always gives to the collection plate, helps out with the fundraisers when he can, he's a very nice man." For the first time in his life, Harry saw Severus Snape blush. Actually blush! He couldn't say anything to Judith, so just nodded. "Poor Dear, how old is he Severus?" Judith asked Harry's 'uncle'.

"He's twelve. Parents had to go away very suddenly, so he's still in a bit of shock about it. I was hoping the Lord might be able to help him with that." Ok so maybe the payment for 'Uncle Sev' was coming much sooner than he thought. "Come Jem, let's take our seats." He said suddenly. They turned towards the pews, selecting a more central one near the back. After they sat down Snape turned to Harry "If you ever call me 'Uncle Sev' outside of this village, you will be scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the year, understand?" He glared at Harry, whilst Harry kept a perfectly straight face.

"Yes, Uncle Sev." He said monotonously, before cracking up. Snape gave a wry smile. With his newly charmed appearance, there was no doubt that this boy was Lily's offspring. The way he laughed with his whole body, not just his face, and the way his eyes lit up when he knew he was up to mischief. He reminded Severus so much of his lost love that it hurt. It was then that Severus decided that he must protect the boy at all costs.


	8. Chapter 8

As the service proceeded, Severus watched his student become enraptured by the word of God, but when Severus stood up to receive communion, Harry looked nervous. "Are you coming?" Snape asked quietly

"Sir, I don't deserve his body or his blood. I'm not a good Christian, not a good person."

"Harry, what have I told you about forgiving yourself?" Snape gave him a hard look, and Harry stood up. The teenager looked uneasy, but stood up and took communion anyway, hoping that it would be a small step into God's forgiveness of him.

Upon leaving the church Harry seemed to have a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step. The reintroduction to God had evidently done him some good, but Snape could see that the boy was in pain, despite his attempts to hide it. When they arrived back at Hogwarts, the questioning started. "How much pain are you really in, Harry?"

"I'm not in any pain, Sir." Harry lied easily, despite the sharp stabbing he felt in his torso.

"Liar. You're walking with a limp and breathing is painful." The professor made it clear that he had been noticing.

"Well I, uh, I may have broken a rib or two during Quidditch..."

"May have broken a rib or two?!" Snape sank into a chair "Go back to bed."

"Sir?" Harry asked uncertainly

"I said go back to bed!" Snape roared. Harry scurried away, and he immediately felt bad for shouting. Hadn't he been telling the boy that he wouldn't hurt him? Now through that one action, he had most likely broken any trust he had been given. He leaned back in the leather armchair, rubbing his face, before standing up and heading to the hospital wing.

It was a cold, snowy Sunday, meaning that Severus did not pass any students as he walked through the corridors. As such, it wasn't until he reached the hospital wing that he realised he hadn't changed out of his muggle attire. "Poppy!" He called as he stepped into her office. The woman he had called for appeared almost immediately.

"Is that you, Severus?" Madam Pomfrey asked, shocked at the potioneer's choice of clothing.

"It is, Poppy. Please excuse my muggle dress. I had business in a largely muggle populated area this morning, and I have yet to change my clothes." It wasn't quite the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie either. There was just enough truth in the lie to make it plausible.

"Of course," Madam Pomfrey nodded. "What can I do for you?"

"I need skele-grow," Snape said, rather more quickly than was necessary. The healer looked surprised.

"Skele-grow, Severus?" She questioned

"Yes Poppy, skele-grow. It seems my... visitor is worse off than we first thought, and will be requiring the substance so he may be treated properly for once in his life." It was as much of an explanation as Severus could provide without giving away too much. Madam Pomfrey nodded and went to fetch a bottle of skele-grow. Snape found himself watching intently. He always made sure Madam Pomfrey had the potions she needed, more if he could, and in return, Madam Pomfrey was discreet when she treated his injuries. She never asked where they came from, only fixed him up and sent him on his way. He supposed that he and Madam Pomfrey were as close to courting each other as either of them could be, given the circumstances. He couldn't bear to put anybody else in danger by inviting them into his life. The fact that Harry had wormed his way into his heat was unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome, and besides, Snape couldn't admit to himself that he loved anybody who wasn't Lily Evans.

"Severus, are you quite well?" Madam Pomfrey asked, concerned by the glazed-over look he held. Snape coughed to clear his throat.

"Ahem, yes Poppy. I'm fine. It is my young visitor who is not." He said calmly

"What has happened that requires the use of skele-grow?" The healer asked. Snape cast a quick muffliato, in case anybody was listening in.

"Broken ribs. He claims one or two, and that it happened during Quidditch, but he was uninjured during the last game and hasn't been to practice since. He has also been lying to me about his pain since we discovered the flu, so I have a distinct feeling that he has several broken ribs, and not because of Quidditch." Madam Pomfrey just nodded, and handed over the bottle. Her hand lingered a little longer than necessary.

"Give him an hours sleeping draught and whilst he's asleep perform an x-ray charm. Vanish the broken ones and any that are misshapen from previous breakage. Make sure that's done whilst he's asleep because he'll never agree to it. Add sugar to the skele-grow because he won't drink it otherwise, and tell him it's something else. I would also give him either a sleeping-draught or dreamless sleep tonight whilst he's healing, just so he'll sleep through the pain."

"Thank you, Poppy." Snape turned around to leave

"Oh, Severus?" Madam Pomfrey called. Snape turned back to face her "Remember, if you need anything, you know where to find me." She smiled, a rare sight, as much like Snape himself, Poppy Pomfrey didn't smile. She gave comfort, not cheer. Dispensed medicine, not laughter. She had the poker face that came with training and years of experience, and smiling was not part of that.

"I will keep that in mind, thank you, Poppy."

When Snape had returned to his quarters, he went to find Harry in the spare room, bringing food as a peace offering, including Harry's favourite, treacle tart. With this, he brought Harry's potions, including the sleeping draught Madam Pomfrey had suggested. "That's a sleeping-draught," Harry said immediately

"Your intelligence knows no bounds, Mr. Potter." Snape said sarcastically "I thought you may like a nap after this morning's excitement." Harry just nodded, ate his food, drank his potions and soon fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m finally getting round to transferring the rest of this from FanFiction.Net, sorry it’s taken a while!

Once Harry was in a deep enough sleep, Snape used an x-ray charm to survey the damage. When the parchment came scrolling put of his wand, there was a sharp intake of breath. Just as Snape was composing himself, there was a knock at his door. He shoved the parchment deep into his pocket before answering. Draco Malfoy was standing before him wearing a pair of jeans, loafers and an emerald wool jumper. "Mr Malfoy." Snape drawled "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm sorry to intrude, Professor Snape, Sir, but I was wondering if I could have some advice on my potions homework?"

"Of course, Draco, please come inside." Snape stepped aside to allow Draco through the door. "What exactly are you struggling with?"

"I've found most of the uses of moonstones, but I'm struggling with the last few." The young Malfoy explained

"Take a seat and give me your essay." He handed the essay over to Professor Snape, who unrolled it and began to read. After a moment he began to frown.

"Is there a problem, Sir?" Draco asked

"Draco... half of this essay is in French." Snape sat down behind his desk and sighed. Draco looked embarrassed.

"Ah. That would have been the French radio I was listening to..." he bit his lip anxiously

"Rewrite it. In English this time." Snape handed back the piece of parchment. Draco picked up a quill and started to write on a fresh piece of parchment, with Severus watching his every move. Around half an hour later, Harry appeared, barefoot and still in his church clothing, with his latest Weasley jumper thrown on top, hair messier than usual. The whole effect was really quite endearing to Severus, but the boy stopped in the doorway, looking like a rabbit in headlights. He went to turn tail and flee, but Draco looked up just a second too soon for Harry to run, yet he still turned around and ran down the hallway back to his room.

Snape heard the retreating footsteps and looked towards the entranceway that Draco Malfoy was staring at.

"Was that Potter?" The blond boy asked. Snape turned his head sharply to look at Draco.

"Yes, that was Potter, and if you know what's good for you, you won't mention anything to the other Slytherin's, or anyone."

"Yes, Sir." Draco mumbled, before turning back to his essay. Snape stood up and swept out of his office towards the guest room that Harry occupied.

"Why is Malfoy here?" Harry asked when Snape had closed the door behind him.

"You may find any number of Slytherin's in my office, Harry, I am their head of house after all."

"But why Malfoy?" The young Gryffindor persisted. Snape sighed.

"He was looking for advice on his potions essay, a topic I will go over with you at a later date. Unfortunately due to Mr. Malfoy's multilingual upbringing, part of his essay was in French. I have asked him to rewrite the piece in English so that I may read it and help him. Perhaps I should set you the same questions, see how you fare." Harry suddenly perked up

"Please, Sir. I'm getting bored without anything to do, I need something or I'm going to go crazy!" Snape looked pleasantly surprised

"The twelve uses of moonstones. You may use my library, and I will have a house elf deliver your school supplies from Gryffindor Tower." Harry nodded eagerly "And for goodness sake, put some slipper on. You'll get a chill down here." If Harry didn't know better, he would almost say his professor was worried about him.

That night Severus was awoken by the sound of screaming. He bolted out of bed and through his bedroom door, heading straight for Harry's room. What he saw when he arrived was Harry writhing as if in pain, arching his back and releasing a blood-curdling scream. He ran over to the bed to try and wake Harry, to no avail against the sleeping draught he had provided the previous evening. After a moment or two he cast a silencing charm on the room, no point waking the rest of the castle after all, and instinctually sat behind Harry on the bed, pulling the child into his lap and holding him, rocking him, as he had never done before. "Shhhh, shhh Harry. It's ok, you're safe, nothing can hurt you here." He comforted, rubbing circles on Harry's back. After around ten minutes the screaming subsided into whimpering sobs. Eventually, Harry woke up enough to speak. Snape still had his arms wrapped around the boy, cheek buried in his dishevelled hair, rocking to try and calm him. With sleep in his eyes and ebony hair mixing together, Snape could almost see Harry as his own son. "What was the nightmare?" He murmured

"I-I was all alone," Harry sobbed "In the forbidden forest, or some kind of forest, because I was surrounded by trees and they kept getting closer and closer until I couldn't breathe and I realised nobody was going to save me. And then there was just this light above me, but that got blocked out and I wasn't going to get out ever."

"Shhhh, Harry. I'm here. I promise I'll always be here. I'll always find you, even when there's nobody else, I promise I will always find you and protect you." It was easy to make this promise. He had already made it once before, except last time he made the promise to Lily. He had failed in that promise, but then and there he vowed never to let the boy down again. He had already spent 15 years not protecting the child, he would now spend as long as he had keeping him safe. He realised that his life as a double agent would make this task much much harder. He could not allow Voldemort to know about his connection with Harry, and could not allow Dumbledore to place the boy in yet another inappropriate home. They had still to find him a permanent guardian, with all Lily's family being muggles and relatively untraceable, and James being related to half the purebloods in Britain, the half that were death eaters. He was related to the Blacks, which was a good sign. Maybe they could find someone in the family that would take Harry in. Severus would have volunteered himself, but knew that Voldemort would find it incredibly suspicious, as would Dumbledore. How could he take in a boy he had been openly cruel to for the past five years? He couldn't, and it broke Severus' heart to know he would have to give him up. He stayed there, holding and rocking Harry, until long after Harry had fallen asleep again. He couldn't bear to leave him alone. Even in sleep the boy wasn't safe. He would never be absolutely safe until Voldemort was dead, well and truly destroyed to the point where he couldn't return.


End file.
